by Anne Hampson
'No need to hedge.' Beth poured Gail a cup of tea. 'Heather didn't seem to think things were as good as they might be between you and Andrew.'
'I expect she told you everything?' 'She did. And it seems to me someone should do something about that Morag. Can't she be put in a home or something?' Gail blinked. 'What for?'
'To keep the little bitch out of mischief ... and to prevent her from making mischief. Why should she want to break up your marriage?'
'She wasn't exactly trying to break it up. I often think she's so bored she does anything just to relieve, the monotony,' Gail added after a slight pause. 'She wouldn't be bored if she'd go to school. I thought you said Andrew was sending her in September?'
'He arranged for her to go to boarding school, yes. But then she was ill, and the doctor doesn't now advise it. He says she should be at home.'
'Well, if she's to be there all the time I don't see how you and Andrew are going to get together. She'll come between you all the time, with her lies and deceit and mischief-making.'
Gail helped herself to sugar and began stirring her tea.
'I've given up hoping that Andrew and I will ever get together,' she admitted at length. 'This is the only way he wants it- nothing but a business arrangement. She glanced at her sister across the table. 'He won't ever love me, Beth. I was a fool to cherish such a stupid idea.'
Beth frowned.
'You were not so pessimistic the last time I saw you,' she reminded her grimly, and it was easy to see that her thoughts were still on Morag. 'In fact, you were right up in the air-pretty sure he'd fall for you in time.'
Rain began to splash on the window and the four children came rushing in. 'The playroom, if you please,' said Beth crisply. 'We haven't had our tea yet.'
'I've just said I was a fool,' Gail reminded her when the children had gone. 'You see, he never once gave me the slightest reason for my hopes.' She smiled, rather sadly. 'He kissed me once, but now I come to think of it, it wasn't really a kiss-just a sort of comforting gesture.' He had kissed her twice, she recalled, but some-how Gail had attached more importance to the first occasion. Beth was looking inquiringly at her and Gail went into a little more detail about what happened when her scar was revealed.
Beth's eyes took on a strange expression and when Gail at last became silent she murmured in a soft and thoughtful tone, 'Why should he have wanted to comfort you? Have you never asked yourself that?' And as Gail shook her head, her glance uncomprehending, Beth went on, 'You'd just had a big row and then suddenly he be-comes kind and kisses you. Was all this part of the "business arrangement" he entered into with you?'
'I don't know what you're getting at, Beth?'
'If it hadn't been for that spiteful wretch poisoning his mind, and bringing back all he's gone through with his first wife, you and Andrew would have been together by now,' Beth declared emphatically, her eyes hard and narrowed. 'But you'll make no headway with that girl around, as I've just said. Can't you persuade Andrew to send her to school?'
'The doctor won't allow it, Beth,' returned Gail with slight impatience. 'No, Morag must stay at home.'
'She's not only a barrier between you and Andrew, but she's also a barrier to his peace of mind.'
Gail said nothing, but she recalled having thought the very thing that Beth had just put into words. Morag was a barrier to Andrew's peace of mind. And without complete peace of mind he could never begin to seek for happiness ... even should he wish to seek for it. 'Perhaps,' sighed Gail in a half-hearted sort of way, 'she'll get married in a few years' time.'
'Well, if it weren't that I'd be delighted for your sake, I'd never, never wish that one on the son of my worst enemy!' Before Gail could make any remark on that the children came to the door, standing by it as if afraid of entering the room.
'We're awful hungry,' complained Thomas, looking at the biscuits on the tray. 'Shena and Robbie haven't had anything to eat for hours and hours!' Gail looked at her nephew with amused perception.
'All right, your mummy and I will make you something at once. Go and wash your faces and hands and when you've done that your tea will be ready.'
'I've an appointment at the hairdressers tomorrow,' Beth said as they were cutting the children's sandwiches. 'I always go on Tuesdays because they're slack. Both Thomas and Marilyn want haircuts, so would you like to look around town and we'll all meet and have lunch somewhere? I could cancel the hair-do,' she went on to say when Gail interrupted her. 'No, don't do that. I'd love to go round the shops. I've missed them, and so it'll be a nice change. Perhaps I'll get a dress from Anita-I've never been able to get anything as nice as hers. She seems to have exactly what suits me. 'Anita knows how to buy,' said Beth. 'She's expensive, though, so you naturally expect the best.' Beth dropped Gail and the two children in the main street and then went to park the car. They would all meet at the- Grand Hotel, where they were to have lunch. 'Can we buy you a present, Mummy?' Shena asked, holding on to Gail's hand and trotting along beside her. 'I want to buy a present as well,' put in Robbie, who was holding her sister's other hand. 'And I want to buy something for Daddy and Morag.'
'I was just going to suggest you buy them something. Do that first, and then if you've any money left you can buy me something.' i6o
'I want to buy yours first, and then Daddy's, and then Morag's Oh, Mummy, look!' Shena dragged them both towards a shop window. 'Handbags! Do you want a new handbag?'
'You haven't got that much money,' interposed Robbie on a little scornful note.
'I have!-haven't I, Mummy?'
'I don't need a handbag, darling. Shall we go into the big store and look around ? We'll have lots more choice there.' The children each bought Andrew a little blown glass animal for his study 'so he can look at them when he's working', Robbie had told the smiling assistant. For Morag they bought a bottle of perfume between them-and subsidised by Gail, without their knowledge. For Gail Shena had bought a little French doll for her dressing-table and Robbie bought her a small picture with bright red roses tumbling all about the walls of a quaint little thatched cottage. After buying presents for all four children Gail suggested they then pool to buy something for Auntie Beth. Eventually Gail was able to go to her favourite dress shop and to her satisfaction she managed to buy a pretty day dress in soft lambs-wool, and a cocktail dress with just the right length of sleeve to hide the scar, and no more. 'You look beautiful!' exclaimed Robbie enthusiastically. 'Are you going to wear it tonight?'
'Not tonight, Robbie. When I go to a party, perhaps.'
'Can I carry it for you:' Shena asked as they came out of the shop.
'No, thank you, Shena. It's rather a big box and I think I'd better carry it. Besides, you have all your other parcels.'
They had about ten minutes to spare and were idly looking in shop windows when Gail twisted round abruptly on hearing her name called.
'Michael ... how are you?' She smiled, noting his interest in Robbie and Shena. 'I'm fine, Gail.' A small pause "and then, 'You're married, I hear.'
She nodded, her smile deepening. Not the merest grudge did she now bear him. His action had helped to shape her life and she was glad she was not married to him. 'This is Robbie, and this is Shena,' she said as he continued to stare down at them.
'You married a-divorced man?'
'My husband's first wife died some years ago.'
'Oh, sorry. The children are young. I naturally concluded that their mother would be still living. Sorry,' he said again, and added, 'Just heard it casually-about your marriage, I mean, and no one seemed to know anything, except that your husband had children-it was three, I thought?'
'He has another daughter. She's much older.' Gail did not expand on that and Michael went on to say he supposed they were staying at Beth's. 'Yes, that's right. The children are off school, so it was a good opportunity to come.' He looked her over, noting her expensive clothes and also those of the children. 'Your husband ... he's Scottish, I seem to have heard?'
She had to smil
e. Michael's curiosity amused her. But she also felt a certain pride in her position and as she was only human she said, with a little touch of dignity, 'He's the Laird of Dunlochrie.'
'My, but that sounds grand! Do you live in a big house?'
'Yes, it's very big,' put in Robbie suddenly, smiling up at Michael. 'But it has to be big because lots of people live in it and because sometimes Daddy has lots of visitors staying, doesn't he, Mummy?'
'Lots of people live with you?' asked Michael, affording Gail no opportunity of answering Robbie's question.
'Yes-we have Mummy and Daddy and me and Shena and Morag. And then we have three maids, and Mrs. Birchan..'
'Robbie' laughed Gail. 'Mr. Bankfoot doesn't want to know all that.'
'But he asked if lots of people lived with us. Shall I tell him about all the men, then?'
'No, darling.' She glanced at her watch. 'We must be going,' she said to Michael. 'We've to meet Beth in a few minutes.'
'I was going to ask you to join me for lunch. I use the cafe over the road, there.'
'Thank you, Michael, but we can't. How are your little ones, by the way? I haven't been able to get a word in to ask,' she apologized with a smile. 'Fine, just fine.'
'Good. Remember me to Joan, won't you?'
'I will.'
'Goodbye-we must hurry. Say goodbye, Robbie and Shena.'
'Goodbye,' they said, turning to wave as they walked away from Michael. 'Who was that, Mummy?' Shena asked. 'An old friend....' Her voice trailed off and she frowned. With her husband's ever- present suspicions in mind she was always on her guard these days. Would Robbie or Shena mention this encounter? It was all wrong that Gail should have to worry over it, but she did worry. And yet she shrugged, for there was nothing she could do about it. Should either Robbie or Shena talk to Andrew of the meeting with Michael then it would be just too bad. She, Gail, would tell him the truth, as she always did, saying it was merely a chance meeting lasting no more than five minutes or so. And if he happened to be in the mood to make a scene then it would just have to be borne, as all the other scenes had been borne.
CHAPTER TEN
THEY returned to Dunlochrie on the Saturday, Gail being unwilling to be away from home on Sunday. It was the day they were together as a family and a day which they all thoroughly enjoyed. Andrew met them at the station and for the entire half hour which the homeward journey took Robbie and Shena chattered, relating every detail that to them had seemed important, but to Gail's relief no mention was made of the encounter with her ex-fiancé.
'Did you miss us?' asked Robbie as the thought suddenly struck him. 'I missed you very much, Robbie.' The words were spoken with unusual gentleness, and on an almost tremulous note which startled Gail, not having witnessed in her husband anything remotely akin to tender emotion. A product of the Highlands, he always seemed to reflect the harshness of the environment in which he had been born and reared.
'We missed you, didn't we, Mummy?' Shena took hold of Gail's hand as she leant forward to press a kiss on her father's cheek. 'Why didn't you come- with us?'
'I had work to do, Shena.'
'Will you come next time?' urged Robbie. 'It's nicer with us all-just like this.' Curiously, Gail half-turned in her seat, recalling for some obscure reason, the incident when she stayed by the compartment window and waved to Andrew as he crossed towards his car. He had waved back ... and she'd had the impression that he smiled at her. He was not smiling now and his profile was as firm and set as ever-and yet his lips were soft, his whole manner pensive as he kept his eyes on the road ahead. It was long and straight, cutting right through the moorlands. Dotted here and there were small dumps of trees, clear indications of bygone habitation. But the trees themselves were all that remained of those lonely steadings whose owners toiled and sweated in their endeavour to eke out a living from the unyielding land. Aware of her gaze upon him, he turned- and the heart seemed suddenly to be wrenched right out of Gail. He'd been lonely! The revelation staggered her, and at the same time stirred her profoundly, for it appeared in some strange way to provide an opening for an improvement in their relationship. 'Robbie and I have bought you presents,' Shena was saying. 'Robbie's is a nice....'
'It's a surprise,' Robbie hastily cut in. 'Why? I want to tell Daddy about our presents.'
'You should wait till we get home, and then he'll have a surprise when he opens them.'
'But –'
'If Robbie wants his present to be a surprise,' interrupted Gail gently, 'then just tell Daddy what you've bought for him.'
'But we've both bought the same.'
'Did you have to tell him?' demanded Robbie, clicking his tongue impatiently.
'Now you can't say what you've bought!'
'They're not both exactly the same.' Shena leant forward again, over Andrew's shoulder. 'Mine's blue and Robbie's is green: Which colour do you like best?'
'I like them both the same,' was the grave reply as Andrew turned off the main road and took the narrower one leading to the village.
'Stop her from telling Daddy-please, Mummy. I want my present to be a surprise-and she's going to say what it is. I know she is!'
'You mustn't, Shena.' Gail urged her back and made her sit down. 'We'll be home in a few minutes; surely you can wait that long.'
'All right, I'll wait.'
'It's because she's young that she has no patience,' commented Robbie scathingly, and both Gail and Andrew laughed. 'Tell me about Beth,' he invited. 'You haven't been able to get a word in yet.' Gail talked casually about their holiday, wondering as she cast him a glance now and then whether his interest was real, or merely assumed for the sake of politeness.
'Do you like your presents?' Shena was asking a short while later as they all sat in the snug.
'That's the third time you've asked Daddy if he likes his presents,' said Robbie. 'Of course he likes them.' So serious he was, thought Gail, a small sigh issuing from her lips. He was becoming quite mature for his age; she hoped he wasn't going to grow up too quickly. But the next moment he was just a little boy again as he eagerly invited his sister to join in a game with him. 'We haven't played it yet,' he told his father. 'Mummy bought it for us and we had no time to play it at Auntie Beth's because we went out every day.'
'It seems to me,' laughed Andrew, 'that you've all been spending a good deal of your time buying presents for everybody else.'
'It was only one morning, when Auntie Beth went to have her hair done. We three went shopping '
'And we saw a nice man who wanted to take us to lunch,' put in Shena brightly.
'He was a friend of Mummy's.'
Both Gail and Andrew looked up, and their eyes met.
'It was Michael: she said calmly, resigned to unpleasantness while hoping desperately she could pass this matter off without it.
'Michael?' he frowned. 'You saw a snapshot of him....'
'Yes, I remember. You were once engaged to him.'
'He's married, with three young children,' she submitted in a low voice. 'You didn't go to lunch with him, apparently.' No hardness in his tone. This was merely conversation, even though it was, on Andrew's part, carried on with the sole object of extracting information from Gail about her ex-fiancé. 'No, we hadn't time. We were meeting Beth at the Grand.'
'And if you hadn't been meeting Beth?' 'I wouldn't have accepted his invitation.' It suddenly struck her that the last time
Michael's name was mentioned she had flared into a temper, telling Andrew he had no right to inquire into her past. A widening of the rift between them had resulted and she had no desire that the same thing should happen again. 'Michael and I have nothing in common anymore.'
'You're still friends, nevertheless?' She smiled reflectively. 'It would be more apt to say we are not enemies.' He continued to look at her, but after a while he turned away, picking up one of the little glass animals and twisting it in his hand, absently allowing it to catch the light from the fire so that the colour changed and deepened. Gail leant bac
k in her chair, watching him with a lightening heart. He had by his dropping of the subject revealed to her the first signs of trust.
She herself had bought Andrew a present, although the children had not seen her get it. She postponed giving it to him until Robbie and Shena were in bed, and even then she hesitated, feeling shy and reluctant because of the previous coldness existing between them right up to the moment of her departure for Beth's.
But as he sat there, on the opposite side of the fire-place, with the glow from the blazing pine logs softening the harsh lines of his face, there flashed through her mind the loneliness she had sensed a short while back, she murmured smilingly, 'I bought you a present.' And, leaning over to take the parcel from the small table at her side, she handed it to him. 'I heard you telling Mrs. Birchan you'd broken your inkstand—'
He looked up, plainly taken by surprise. 'Thank you, Gail.' He took the parcel from her out-stretched hand and slowly opened it. The inkstand, an antique in cut crystal and silver, had given her great pleasure on finding it, and now there was no doubt at all that Andrew found pleasure in owning it. 'It's exquisite.' He held it in his hand a long while, swallowing now and then, his gaze unfathomable. 'Thank you, my dear; I'll find a very good use for this charming little gift.'
'I'm glad you like it.' She averted her head, hiding the flush of pleasure his words had given her. To allow him a glimpse of her feelings would most surely mar this happy moment. Later, as they both rose to go to bed, he appeared deliberately to bar her way-not with any obvious movement, but somehow he was between her and the door as she made to leave the room after bidding him goodnight. 'Gail....' He tailed off and a moment's silence fell on the room before he said, 'Thank you again for the present, Gail. It was nice of you to think of me.' Moving aside, he allowed her to pass. 'Thank you again for the present....' As she mounted the stairs Gail repeated those words ... and she had the firm conviction that other words had lingered on his tongue,--words he found too difficult to voice.
